


My, Oh My

by mikasasha



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: F/F, Homophobia, fluff kinda, heads up this has made up backstories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8518309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikasasha/pseuds/mikasasha
Summary: She looked as if she'd just escaped a forest fire.





	

**Author's Note:**

> since theres no fucking fics for them

The day Olive was brought to the home is probably the only day that Emma could never forget, no matter what.

Most of the current residents of the house were already there, so when Olive arrived, it was a bit of a ruckus. Emma was in her room, reading a book, when she heard screaming and sobbing outside in the front of the house. She was shocked and startled, and, worried it was Fiona or Bronwyn, she rushed out of her room, down the stairs, and out of the house. But she was greeted with neither Fiona nor Bronwyn.

What she saw was someone leaning on Miss Peregrine- crying with a contorted face, sobbing with tears running down her face covered in dark ash. It was easy to tell that she could hardly stand, and her hands were close to her body, shaking and fingers spaced apart strangely. Her eyes were clenched shut, and her orange hair was filled with what looked to be soot and ash. Her dress looked almost charred, and she looked as if she'd just escaped a forest fire.

Emma didn't say anything. She just watched as Miss Peregrine guided her from the cave as best and far as the girl could walk, watched as she doubled over and fell on her knees to the floor. She buried her head in her hands, only to shriek and yank them back, acting as if they'd burned her. She just clenched her fists and held them close to her chest, choking out sobs and wails.

She stood there until the girl ran out of screams and tears, sitting there hiccuping with Miss Peregrine by her side, rubbing her back and cooing words that Emma couldn't distinguish from the porch. At some point, all of the other children in the house had joined Emma on the porch, concern on their faces.

When the girl looked up and wiped her tears, she saw the crowd on the porch, and adopted a sheepish look. Her cheeks flushed to a red almost as bright as her bloodshot eyes.

"Children, go to your rooms." Miss Peregrine said loud enough for everyone to hear, and everyone listened. Except for Emma.

For some reason, Emma couldn't get herself to move. She just stared and stared at the girl; this trembling, hiccuping, crying girl.

"Emma-" Miss Peregrine began, more assertive in tone, but Emma cut her off.

"Can I get you anything?" Emma asked, directed towards the girl. The girl looked shocked, eyes widening just so and lips parting just barely. "A glass of water? Something to eat?"

She was quiet before she responded. "No, thank you. That's very polite of you." Even though her voice was trembling, Emma noted that it was very pretty.

"I'm simply being a proper host." She said. "Is there anything I can help you with? Can you stand?"

Emma saw the girl swallow and look down at the ground nervously. "I believe so." And she pushed herself up, wobbly and unsure, looking as if she'd fall over. But she didn't. "Thank you, though."

"Of course." Emma looked her over, and she still looked quite a mess. She looked to Miss Peregrine, who was also beginning to stand up straight. "Shall I get her some new clothes?"

"Yes, please. Thank you, Emma." Miss Peregrine answered, and Emma nodded her head before walking back inside of the house.

She hurried upstairs to her bedroom, rushing to fetch something that would look good with the girl's hair. Something pretty. Maybe that could help her at least a little bit.

She chose a dress- one of her favourites. Pretty, pink, slightly ruffled. She hoped the girl liked pink. Once she'd chosen it, she went down the stairs again, and found Miss Peregrine and the girl outside of one of the guest rooms.

Neither of them noticed her while they talked.

"Are you okay to take a shower? Would that hurt you?" Miss Peregrine asked the girl. What a peculiar question.

"I believe I'll be fine. I've taken plenty of showers."

"Alright. But if you can't do it, please don't feel obligated. I don't want you getting hurt."

"Of course. Truly, I cannot thank you enough." And the girl's voice was incredibly sincere.

"I've brought a dress." Emma spoke up, and the girl jumped with surprise and faced Emma. "I hope you like it."

The girl looked down at the dress, and her expression softened while the corners of her lips turned up. "I do. Pink is my favourite colour." Miss Peregrine walked to Emma to take a hold of the dress as the girl spoke more. "Thank you so much. You both are so kind."

"Dear, there's no need to thank us." Miss Peregrine said. Once holding the dress, she walked back to the girl. "You're family now. You're with people just like you. Now come along, let me show you where the showers are."

And even after they had disappeared down the hall, walking to the nearest bathroom, Emma stayed put in front of the guest bedroom door. Without much thinking she opened it, and was greeted with a dusty, neglected room with furniture protected by white sheets and nothing on the shelves of the bookcases littering the walls.

Well that simply wouldn't do.

Emma went inside, trying desperately not to sneeze at the collection of dust. She moved to the nearest piece of furniture and ripped off the sheet, kicking up a cloud of dust and dirt. She coughed and closed her eyes, and gave the dust a couple seconds to settle before opening her eyes and looking towards the furniture- an armchair with a worn back and a faded pattern.

She knew what she had to do. She simply left the room and hurried to the broom closet to fetch a duster and stopped by the laundry room to grab a few blankets.

Several moments later, nearly bordering on an hour, the room was properly dusted, the worn furniture tightly tucked with cozy blankets, the bed's pillows fluffed, the windows cleaned, the shelves polished. She turned to leave, to go put away the supplies and grab a few knick knacks for the empty shelves, only to see the girl in the doorway, shocked.

This close, Emma noted that the girl was very, _very_  pretty. Her eyes a nice, bright blue, her skin pale and soft without dark ash smearing her cheeks, her hair a shocking orange, despite being wet. She was dressed- in the dress Emma had given her, paired with heavy duty, thick black gloves. Emma couldn't even fathom what those were for.

"Hello." Emma said, taking note of how the girl's eyes twinkled. "I just cleaned it up a bit for you, since it was very dusty. I take it you'll be staying with us?"

"Yes." Her voice was no longer trembling; it was solid and smooth.

"Lovely to hear." Emma gave her a smile, which she readily returned. Emma reached out her hand. "As you must know, I'm Emma. Emma Bloom."

The girl's face faltered when she realized she'd be touching Emma's hand, but one glance at the gloves on her own hands gave her a noticeably more confident air. She looked Emma in the eyes. "I'm Olive Abroholos Elephanta."

Olive reached her hand out, and the feeing of the gloves was a thick, cold, and strange one, but Emma didn't mind. "Such a beautiful name!" Emma beamed, and Olive's cheeks grew a light dusting of pink.

"Likewise."

And neither of them moved their hands for a while. They simply held them there, until Olive seemed to notice and get a little more embarrassed. She gently pulled back her hand.

"May I ask what your peculiar is? Your talent?" Emma put her hand back down, and Olive seemed to get a bit of a somber look- a look as if she'd start crying again. Emma spoke before Olive had the chance to get sadder or say anything. "You're not obligated to tell me in the slightest. Please don't tell me if it will make you upset."

"It's-" Olive cleared her throat. "It's no problem. I simply, um-" Her voice cracked on the lay syllable, and Emma could see tears swell at her waterline. "I have the ability-" Her throat sounded like it was closing up.

"Olive." Emma interrupted, and she stepped closer to take hold of her hands. Her glove covered hands. "You don't have to say. Truly."

Olive looked down at their hands and blushed, pursing her lips. She looked back up to Emma, and this close, Emma could see every different shade of blue in her eyes. "Thank you." She cleared her throat again. "I promise I will tell you, it's just difficult to say right now."

"Whenever you're ready." Emma nodded, and leaned in to comfortably hold Olive. She wrapped her arms around Olive, and she felt that she was far on the skinny side. Emma could feel that her dress was a bit loose on Olive in some places- on the back, on the shoulders. Emma pulled back and looked at the dress. She unwillingly notes that it's not loose in the chest. "Do you need a tighter dress? I can ask someone else for one-"

"No." She responds rather fast, and upon realizing such, she blushes a bit more. "It's a pretty dress. I, um. I like it."

Emma smiles. "Alright then. Now do you want to pick out some things to decorate your shelves? This room is so drab that it's starting to depress me."

Olive chuckles. "What could I even put on the shelves?"

Hmm. What _could_  she put on the shelves?

Half of her knows this is a stupid quest, and knows she could and should find a way to politely end the conversation, since she doesn't particularly know where it's going. The other half of her, however, is desperate to look at Olive for any and every reason.

"We could walk around the house tomorrow; see if you like anything and simply put it on your shelves. I'm positive no one will mind."

And that's how they ended up in Enoch's room the next day, after Olive was visibly less burdened and well rested.

Emma thought Olive would be looking at the jars- interested in them and asking to take one for her room, maybe marveling at the robots and poppets Enoch's made, maybe looking in awe at the several books Enoch keeps in his room.

Emma _didn't_  think that Olive would be interested in, marveling, and looking in awe at _Enoch_.

She stood in the doorway, saw as how Enoch and Olive talked, Olive seemed to be intrigued by every deadpan word that came out of Enoch's stupid mouth, describing some boring process that Emma didn't care about, and she's certain Olive didn't either. Olive never took her God forsaken _eyes_  off of Enoch. And certainly, _yes_ , Enoch _is_  an attractive young man, but Emma could be attractive too. What was even more in favour for her was that Emma was actually interesting.

She made a note to scold herself for those comments later.

"Are you going to put anything from here on your shelves?" Emma blurted out, interrupting Enoch's nails-on-a-chalkboard voice, face flushed with lungs and a stomach full of bubbling anger. When both Olive and Enoch looked shocked at Emma's interruption- the latter about seventy times less interested- she spoke up again. "That's why we came in here. To liven your room up, Olive."

"Oh." Olive said with pink cheeks and a sheepish face.

"Is that why?" Enoch spoke up, and Emma didn't know if it was directed at herself or Olive. He turned to completely face Olive. "Then sorry for keeping you. You can take whatever you like, so long as it's only one thing."

"Thank you so much." Olive adopted a small, nervous smile, and Emma had to clench her fists to keep from screaming out about how if she were Enoch, she'd let Olive take every bloody thing in her room, right down to the floorboards. "But I couldn't take anything. All of your things seem to be put to such good use- I couldn't waste them on silly decoration."

 _Silly_.

At that word, Emma simply left. She didn't think about it, didn't really ask herself "hmm, what could possibly be the repercussions of storming out of a room i suggested going to" before stomping off in a fast walk, her heavy shoes clunking angrily against the floorboards.

She didn't stop when she heard Olive call out a worried "Emma!", didn't stop when she heard Olive's feet pitter behind her on the floor. She simply went down the stairs as fast as she could without running, and walked to the backyard.

At that point, Emma figured Olive surely would have given up on following her- surely would have gone back to Enoch to go snog his socks off. She didn't stop walking until she got to the tree, where she simply stood still and looked up, through the branches and up to the sky. She wondered what would happen if she just took off her shoes and just let herself fly.

"Emma!" She heard someone call, dainty and out of breath. Startled, she whipped around to see Olive rushing to her, black gloves gripping her (or rather, Emma's) dress as she ran. She stopped just short of three feet from Emma- close enough to where Emma could smell her, still of ash and soot. "Why did you run out like that?"

Emma couldn't answer. So she didn't.

"Did I upset you?" Olive asks tentatively, brows creasing in worry and guilt and Emma's stomach clenches with regret. "I truly didn't mean to."

"Why did you follow me?" Is all Emma can ask.

Olive looks slightly confused compared with every other negative emotion on her face. "Why would I not?"

"Why do you care?" After Olive just gets more confused, Emma adds on. "About me. Why did you care to follow me when you could talk to Enoch?"

"Why would I want to talk to Enoch more than you?"

At that, for some odd reason, Emma feels her cheeks get warm. "Well, the way you looked at him. You obviously like him, don't you?"

Olive looks taken aback. "Like him? I hardly know him. I just met him today, after all. Certainly he's a good looking boy, but you're also a good looking girl, so that doesn't particularly make a difference."

Emma feels her cheeks get far more than warm. "Olive, don't say things like that." She tries to bite down her smile.

"Like what? That you're good looking?"

"Yes!" She whispered, as if afraid someone would hear. "Someone could take that the wrong way!"

Olive smiled, with an emotion Emma couldn't place. "Wrong way how? We're just two young women being friendly, aren't we? Am I forbidden to call my friend good looking?"

Oh. Friend.

That word made Emma feel multiple different emotions at once, but one that was a bit heavier than the others was disappointment. Yet, Emma was truly uncertain as to why, because Olive being her friend sounded like a splendid occurrence. But with Olive saying such- _calling_  her a friend- it became a lot less splendid.

"Oh. Right, of course. Sorry, I suppose I was just... Thinking of strange things, is all."

"Strange is a harsh word." Olive's tone was shy and cheeky, and it had Emma flustered. Yet when Olive spoke again, her voice was as normal as ever. "Shall we go actually find things for my room?"

Three snow globes, two vases, plenty of books, and a very intentional avoidance of Enoch's room later, Olive's shelves and window sill were littered with fun, random items, and Olive's room felt a lot cozier.

"This is better." Olive smiled fondly at her room, standing next to Emma, who was fiddling her hands.

Emma looked over to Olive while she stared at the room adoringly, and just looking at the bridge of her nose and cut of her bangs had Emma's stomach lighting up. "It looks wonderful." And half of her felt and half of her knew that she wasn't talking about the room. "You did a good job."

Olive looked over at her, and gave her the same warming smile she'd given the room. "Thank you."

It took Emma months for her to finally admit that she may have the slightest feelings for Olive. Romantic feelings.

It took her a while to even realize what her feelings meant. At first, she didn't know what to make of the jitters and energy she got from Olive's smile, of the smile she couldn't help choking down when Olive laughed, of the painful anger she felt when Olive smiled at Enoch. But then she heard Fiona telling Hugh and Millard what it was like when she had fancied a boy before she came to Miss Peregrine's, and Emma knew.

She of course didn't accept it at first. Couldn't. She could _not_  have romantic interest in another girl. She couldn't be _that_  much of a sinner- couldn't be that gross and heinous.

But then she knew she could be, when she had felt her heart pang and scream when Olive had cried while telling her about how she came to Miss Peregrine's- about how she accidentally burned down her house and killed her parents and brother. When she saw Olive with her voice cracking and her eyes wet, and her entire body ached at Olive's pain, she knew. Knew that she certainly had a very, very large crush on Olive.

It had been under the tree in the backyard. They were sitting together in a nice silence, many, many months since Olive had come to Miss Peregrine's. She didn't know really what Olive was doing, then. Taking a nap, maybe.

She had just been thinking about Olive. About her laugh, and pretty voice, and kind heart, and every perfect little thing about Olive, that she hadn't even noticed at first that she'd said it.

"I like you a lot."

And it'd been quiet for a bit after that. After what Emma was sure was decades, she looked over to Olive, who was looking at her and smiling shyly with pink cheeks.

"I like you a lot too." Is all she said, and Emma knew that she couldn't have meant it in the same way Emma did.

"I don't think you understand." She turned her body to face a little more towards Olive. "I like you."

"I know."

Olive didn't understand. She didn't know what Emma meant. She couldn't have. And rather than having to say it and get embarrassed and make a fool of herself, she simply leaned forward and kissed Olive lightly on the lips. Not more than a second or two- Emma couldn't do that to Olive. Not when she knew that Olive would surely run away and vomit, would never talk to her again and never be able to look at Emma again.

Except she didn't know, because Olive just leaned forward and kissed her back.

**Author's Note:**

> none of u fuckers wrote about these two so i had to. its all ur fault bc this is probably awful and ooc but u forced me to do this
> 
> also this is my first and probably will be my only g rated fic ever
> 
> go follow me on the hell website Tungle. Com: @memekasasha


End file.
